Reason to Live
by Kaiyouu
Summary: He tells me that I have nothing here. All in one sentence, it spoke volumes to me. I have no value. I do not have a life. It is all nothing."-Haku [One-Shot]


**Author's Note**: Enjoy this short piece. This is my first Naruto story. I have never read any of Naruto stories either. So this idea may have already been used, but I hope it is quite different from others. It is definitely a change from all my other Inuyasha stories. Heh he.

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**Disclaimer**: I don't own anything of Naruto.

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**Reason to Live**

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_I have no purpose in life_.

My early memories still haunt me. Their lingering presence in my mind perturbs me greatly. I remember seeing red. An abnormal amount of the red, thick liquid had formed into a pool on the wooden floor. Some of it had seeped through the brown, hard wood.

It was the blood of my mother's. I remember seeing my father's face. I could not read his eyes, but tear streams were clearly seen. His intentions were clear.

_He was going to kill me. _

I was scared; shaken by the fact that my own father killed his lover and the fact that I'm his very next victim. The vile smell of the blood had provoked me to raise bile up my throat. My escalating fear and non-stop trembling made it unmanageable for me to rid of the disgusting substance from my mouth. I was like a petrified victim of an unsuspected predator.

I was too scared to realize what would happen next. I couldn't control it. It had been too much for me. I felt power surge into me; waiting to be released. Then it unleashed and became a deadly weapon.

I ran out of the house without any suffering injuries. When I had no more strength to go on, I collapsed to the pure, white snow. I paid no heed to the moisture and coldness that I had laid upon. Nor do I pay attention to the little white flakes that fall from the great white sky.

I saw a tiny flake dissolve into the thick blanket of snow, followed by another one. It went on like a pattern. Then I see the dark reddish fluid on my hand. It is the very same liquid substance that had once belonged to my loving parents.

Then I realized one thing: I had killed my own father.

It was quite ironic really. We wound up killing each other. But who is to kill me now?

Our once happy family is destroyed. I have no reason to live. For no one wants me, nor do they need me.

I think to myself over and over again: _I have no purpose._

I was scared to show my powers again; scared of the blood. It was too much for me.

With no money and shelter, I had no choice but to hit the streets. Snowfall was frequent. For I have felt coldness numerable times, and up to the point where I become numb. Fortunately, I wasn't too cold for my limbs to freeze up to the point where I would need to cut them off.

People, who walk by, often shoot pitiful and sympathetic glances at me. I am nothing but a street urchin.

At times, I sit by the dump; in anticipation for trash to be thrown out. As soon as the bag of garbage hits the waste pile, I shoot to my feet and start tearing the bag up vigorously, in hopes of remaining food. I find a variety of things, from half-eaten rice balls that have dirt on them to a few of ramen noodles scattered about.

Sometimes, I have adversaries who would want the food as desperately as me: Stray dogs. I learn to fend them off easily after a few times where I obtain nasty bruises from their sharp canine teeth. The pain does not faze me though.

There was a huge turning point in my miserable life when I met _him_.

One thought had entered my mind when I first saw him.

_He has the same eyes as me. _

It was the eyes of a one who is fighting all he can to survive in this cruel, cruel world. It was the eyes of one who has experienced many horrible events. Those eyes held great fire in them. Those eyes represented loneliness and solitude.

The man had gazed at me with such intensity. They seem to glimmer with interest. I pondered on what was so interesting about me. For I was very naive then, I wondered such silly thoughts.

But I wonder if there's most to this world that has not been exposed to me yet.

The man has still not gone off walking, instead he stood there. It was a record, for no one has stayed this long to look at a street urchin. He stared at me with those eyes. Then he speaks through the white fabric that is wound up around his lower face.

He tells me that I have nothing here. I have no purpose here. All in one sentence, it spoke volumes to me. I have no value. I do not have a life. It is all nothing.

He shocked me a second time when he asked me to be his tool.

A thousand thoughts flowed through my head back then. Should I trust this man? This stranger? With his clothes and forehead protector, it screamed 'ninja' all over.

But it wasn't if I have much of a choice. I could very well just die here in the snow. I could rot out here for days and no one would know of my corpse buried in the white snow.

Before I could make him angry with growing impatience, I quickly nod my head. He seemed to smile when I took up the offer. I didn't know of what was going to come, but I would embrace it with courage and determination.

I do not mind being nothing but a tool for Zabusa. It makes me happy. It makes me feel useful. I willingly let him use me, if that was what would make him feel content.

It is because I have grown to love him. I do not know if it is as a father figure, or more of an older sibling. Whichever it is, he has grown to be a very important person to me.

Does he think I am important to him as well?

That thought has wandered into my mind constantly. It only raises my perplexity of my thoughts.

To drive these bemusing thoughts away, I focus on training. I receive a variety of injuries that vary from small nicks to large gashes upon my body.

But, I am not afraid. I know of the redundant consequences that could come forth from this. I can easily die. Experienced and high-level ninjas roam all over the place. And I am also a victim in this mess; for everyone can be your enemy when you are a ninja.

But, I still cannot endure the fact that I'm not exactly what anyone would call a ninja. I am not exactly keen of the thought of killing. Instead, I usually wind up only wounding the victim. Even if my opponent is wounded, the person would not die; as I only aim for the less vital body parts, for I cannot bring myself to _kill_.

Because of this, I am a weakling. Ninjas should not hesitate to kill. If you do not make your move, they instead, will gladly do what you intend to do to them.

My weakness……I cannot kill……

On the other hand, my attacks are quite lethal. I practice my techniques, especially my ultimate one that deals with ice mirrors. They are made of frozen water and are difficult to penetrate. An extremely abnormal amount of heat is needed to melt these mirrors, which is impossible for anybody. Well, that was until Naruto's abnormal, and unpleasant energy defeated my technique completely.

I was sort of relieved when that happened. I did not think I could kill him or his friend of his. They are strong ninjas and are fighting for somebody else. Not for the pleasure of for themselves, but for others. But I did not want to let Zabusa down.

I tell Naruto to kill me.

'_Kill me_,' I said.

He hesitates, and desperately looks for a way out. He cries, 'Why?!'

I answer his cries. I have already lost. I let Zabusa down. I have been defeated. My purpose has been defeated. I am no longer needed.

I walk closer to the boy. He backs away.

_Kill me_.

I have no purpose anymore.

_Kill me. _

My pleading finally reaches the boy. He hesitantly takes out a dagger and runs toward my still figure. Just a few seconds before the dagger reached my flesh, I heard faint electricity cackling. I stopped Naruto with a swift hand and used my other to form a seal.

I quickly went and arrived directly in front of Zabusa.

It happened quickly. A strong ripple swept the ground. I felt a strong force upon my chest. Thick liquid filled my mouth, and I felt it flow down my chin. I saw blood splat all over Kakashi. He was obviously surprised and didn't suspect this at all.

I focused on Zabusa. I heard his faint chuckling behind me. Was it relief?

I am on the verge of death. I violently cough up blood. The bitter and metallic taste is strong in my mouth. I hear large amounts of blood fall to the ground with an astounding splat. I feel all numb now. I no longer feel the pain that is eating at me. I feel Zabusa's heavy breathing. Do his wounds hurt? Does he feel pain, resentment, or even amazement?

Does he care if I had risked my life for him?

My endless questions remained unanswered as I breathe my last single breath in this world. I see multiple memories of my parents and my times with Zabusa. My life is flashing right before my very eyes. My last vision was Zabusa smiling.

Then…

Darkness overcomes me.

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A/N: Now, all you have to do is…..REVIEW. And one more thing, REVIEW. Come on, it ain't that time-consuming. So can you REVIEW? I hear a 'yes'. –Grins-

For this particular paragraph, this was what I originally had: "I was scared; shaken by the fact that my own father killed his lover and the fact that I'm his next victim. I remember my escalating fear and my non-stop trembling. I was like a fawn caught in the headlights of a truck."

But then I realized that they didn't exactly have trucks in that time. Heh he, so yeah. Wonder if you guys would've noticed if I put that.


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